


He Did What?

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Awesome Freya (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Confused Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Demon Deals, F/F, F/M, Goddesses, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Hell, M/M, Merlin & Morgana Friendship (Merlin), Merlin is an idiot, Pining Gwaine (Merlin), Post-Battle of Camlann (Merlin), Post-Canon, Protective Arthur, Protective Knights (Merlin), Redeemed Morgana (Merlin), Resurrection, Torture, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25304944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Freya's there for them, when they wake up, ready to tell them that Merlin's done something very bad.
Relationships: Freya/Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 101





	1. Hell.

He’d done it. Freya couldn’t quite believe it could be true, that Merlin would be so… stupid. Yet here was the proof, the dead raising themselves from the water, with Freya to help drag them out. She had summoned the Queen of Camelot and her Knights to come, hadn't quite expected the Physician to join them, but it was proof of how bad the situation was.

There was a lot of confusion. Of the Queen rushing to her husband, whose hands were going to his stomach to try and find the wound. Of Sir Leon and Percival reaching for the three Knights that had risen out of the water.

Freya helped the Lady Morgana rise, the High Priestess wobbling on her feet and looking around the clearing with shock. Evidently, she knew who had brought her back. Like Freya, she could feel the energy around them. Dark Magic, far too dark, and Freya fought to keep her tears at bay as she soothed the Witch.

‘Steady, my Lady.’ The woman looked up at her, fingers reaching for her soaked dress as she sat up.

‘You’re her.’ She whispered, sounding slightly terrified.

Freya did not have time to respond, for Sir Leon was pointing a blade at Morgana, who responded by hiding behind her form.

‘Sir Leon, would you kindly lower your sword?’ Calm, Freya. She could not lose her temper now, it was not their fault that Merlin had done something so very idiotic.

‘Who are you?’ Gwen demanded, still cradling Arthur’s head against her chest.

‘I am the Lady of the Lake. You may call me Freya.’

‘A creature of Magic.’ Gaius stated, openly admiring her. He had to be aware of what had happened between her and Merlin, she figured, offering him a small smile. Those words had an effect on Elyan, who reached for his sword that was at his side. Arthur, however, finally took the time to stand. Shaky, he’d been resurrected a week after his death, but he was slowly regaining colour.

‘Does that mean you’re going to kill her?’ Morgana snarked, obviously feeling slightly empowered by the fact that Freya was between the two of them.

‘Of course not. Magic is not inherently evil.’ Arthur calmly remarked, and Freya thought back to his last words.

‘You’re honouring Merlin, which I appreciate, Once and Future King.’ Freya stood, helped Morgana to her feet, then turned back to him.

‘Where is Merlin? Is he responsible for this?’ Arthur’s question was met with Gwen telling him that they had not seen Merlin since he returned to Camelot to inform her that Arthur had died. A brief murmur of shock, they all knew how loyal Merlin was.

‘Why did he bring her back?’ Sir Gwaine did not look impressed by Merlin’s choice of the resurrected, glaring at Morgana with such fury that Freya winced. She looked back to the Witch, who still seemed to be recovering from Arthur’s statement about Magic, before smiling to Gwaine.

‘Sir Gwaine, Merlin needs a Sorcerer of power to help him. He brought Morgana back in the hope she would reconcile with all of you.’ A couple of looks of disbelief, but it was Morgana that spoke.

‘What’s he done? I can… I can feel it. Dark Magic, it’s all around us.’ Her dress was soaked, hair neatly braided but drying rather messily, nothing like the way she had looked when Merlin had burned her body. He’d spent so much time ensuring her boat was perfect, flowers surrounding her and a protection spell to see her through to the next life.

‘He… He sold his soul.’ Freya admitted, before she promptly forgot everything she’d told herself about not getting emotional, bursting into tears.

**

Merlin hated fire. It came with the territory of being a sorcerer, the knowledge that he might eventually burn for his gift. How ironic was it, that rather than burning, Merlin had to set fire to all those that he loved? His King, his lover, his best friends? He swallowed, regretting it when the metallic taste of blood slid down his throat, raising his head to look around him.

He knew he believed in the Goddess. In Magic itself, a creature so divine that the opposite had to exist. He just hadn't realised how true Hell was, until he’d agreed to descend to the fiery oblivion in return for his friends’ lives. By now, Arthur would have risen from the Lake. Freya will be there, to comfort them, to tell them that Merlin had done something very, very stupid.

‘Halfling.’ The voice was the same as usual, the creature stalking towards him with eyes the colour of the night, pure black. Not a hint of human in them, and Merlin had concluded that he was a Demon. He had powers that Merlin had never anticipated, the ability to shift into faces from Merlin’s past, to torture and burn and make Merlin doubt bringing the others back to life.

Then there was the name. Halfling. They called him a child of the Goddess, a creature of immortality, which is why he had not died in return for the others living.

No, he’d ended up in Hell, surrounded by the dead.

‘What should we start with today?’ The Demon questioned, reaching for what appeared to be a small dagger. It was a relief from yesterday’s choice of weapon. Yesterday, an odd term, because he felt like he had been down here for months. According to his Captor, Hell’s time was not the same as that in Camelot. The months he’d spent in this place, were mere moments on the ground above him.

‘A dagger is more… intimate, do you not think?’ Another step closer, Merlin studying the dark eyes as the knife settled on his collarbone.

He had done this to himself. By playing with forces he could not understand, by tearing the world open to summon a Demon.

But Arthur was alive. Elyan, Gwaine, Lancelot. They would be alive, and more importantly, Camelot was protected. The only thing that could threaten the Kingdom was the last person he had brought back, Morgana.

He wasn’t sure why he did it. To begin with, he thought it was his desire to break free from his deal. If anyone could resurrect him, it would be a High Priestess. Then again, he was beginning to realise he actually brought her back because he knew he had done her wrong.

He should have saved them all, and instead, they had suffered. So many people dead, just because he was not strong enough. Now, he would bear the burden of not being the Warlock he was supposed to be.

‘Bring it on.’ He sneered, pulling at the restraints and calling for his Magic again, only to receive the same burst of pain when he tried it. The Demon looked amused, the knife slowly splitting his skin as pressure was applied. He inhaled, tried to arch away from the blade, but the wall behind was made of burning rock, which was far worse.

‘Oh you poor boy, you have no idea what you’ve done.’ He cooed, raising the blade to his lips, a tongue sneaking out to lick the drop of blood that spilt. Merlin refused to break the eye contact, held it even when the Demon pressed the blade to his own wrist.

Of course, a Demon would bleed black. Merlin watched as the wrist was brought up, and when he realised its destination, he began to fight.

It was no use, it pressed to his mouth and a sharp punch to the gut had him gasping, sucking in the horrible taste of death.

_Arthur was alive._

‘Was it worth it, little one?’ A hand in his hair, petting the sweat-soaked strands as Merlin choked on the taste of defeat.

_They were all alive._

‘Yes.’


	2. Growl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's not impressed, Morgana's all alone, and Freya's still being awesome

Merlin growled, made the walls around his cell shake as he tried to break free from the muzzle they’d fitted him with. Just because he needed his mouth to speak more complex spells, didn’t mean he couldn’t call upon the energy in his veins. Blood, sticky and dark, dripping down the walls of the home he had been given.

He missed Camelot. It was the very opposite of his new living quarters. There was no friendship down here, no coalition. Everyone tried to better themselves, there was no loyalty that he could see. No order, and it made it easier to break out.

He wondered if Morgana was going to get him out of here. Merlin turned away from the door to his Cage, paced around and then retreated back to the darkness, watched as the door was unlocked. A Demon, not the usual one that tortured him. He’d killed that one.

‘Emrys. I’m here with a proposition.’ She was rather pale, with hair the colour of strawberries and eyes that flicked between red and a normal green. At the door, two other Demons with black eyes, she was clearly someone of power.

‘And what would that be?’ He thought, knowing she’d be able to read his mind. She took another step in, reached for the wall that continued to drip dark.

‘Finish your conversion, halfling, and then I’ll let you out. I might even let you see your King.’

Merlin didn’t know how long he’d been down here. He wasn’t quite sure how time worked, figured that if he was ever going to see Arthur again, he needed to get out of this cell.

‘Then bring me more blood.’

**

Morgana avoided the Guards. She had no choice, they glared at her, occasionally would spit at her feet whenever she walked through the Castle. It was not much better outside the walls, the citizens would glare at her with a hatred that she couldn’t avoid. Despite the fact that both the King and Queen had stated it had been an enchantment, that she had been cursed by her half-sister, they still did not forgive her.

But Magic was being legalised. After the Battle, the people of Camelot called for the Queen to change the laws, and she had obeyed. Now, as Morgana stepped into the throne room, she was caught with a moment of sadness.

Gwen was laughing, the crown upon her head gleaming in the light as she turned to Arthur, linked their fingers together and smiled. The Round Table sat in the room, at which everyone was supposed to be an equal.

The Knights watched as she entered the room, bringing with her all the research she had done. Gaius had been doing the same, ready to report to the King and Queen.

‘What do we know?’ Arthur was desperate to get Merlin back, and Morgana could understand why. She felt disbalanced, with Magic feeling empty now that Emrys wasn’t alive. She’d never thought it would feel this awful, to have him gone. She’d tried to kill him, countless times, but if she’d known…

‘That Hell is a realm that can only be accessed by the dead, the corrupted, or non-humans.’ Gaius stated, sliding the book to show the depiction.

Dark reds, fire that stretched upwards, a depiction of a throne in the centre.

Someone else appeared in the room, Freya. She had become stronger with Morgana’s help to tie her to the land, moved across to the table and curtseyed to the King.

‘My Lord, my Lady.’

‘What have you learned, Lady Freya?’ Even a creature that had been a Bastet was put above Morgana now, but the woman couldn’t blame Arthur. She’d broken his trust, had hurt everyone. Had been the cause of his death, and henceforth the cause of Merlin going to Hell.

‘Merlin’s the last category of Gaius’s list. A halfling. It’ll be hard to pull him from Hell without a collection of Magical items.’ Arthur listened to her with a frown, but listening. Morgana waited for her turn, as all the others spoke and chattered, patient.

‘I would like to volunteer to go to Hell to find him.’ She spoke calmly, having thought about this for a very long time. As the words rang out, the room fell silent.

‘Morgana…’

‘You cannot convince me otherwise. I shall find him.’ She looked to Freya first, to the Lady of the Lake. The woman smiled, reached for her hand and took it carefully, skin cool to the touch.

‘I will guide you as best as I can, my Lady.’ Morgana had a friend. Just one, in a world of people that hated her.

‘I’ll bring Merlin back to you.’ She stated, looking away from the Lady to the King. To her half-brother, who did not try and stop her, nor tried to aid her in the foolish mission she had set herself. In fact, the only one who spoke up was Gaius.

‘Morgana, might I advise that you be careful, your Magic…’

‘Isn’t the same, without Emrys here.’

Morgana stood up, turned away from the table and walked out without looking back to them.

**

Merlin grunted as the blade sliced down his arm, glared at the Demon that dared to hold onto him. Whoever the girl had been, she only held so much power. Lots of Demons had a burden with Emrys, the halfling that had roamed Albion’s lands, trying to stop Wars. Preventing all the evil and darkness that tried to prevail.

This was his price to pay, for letting Arthur die. It was worth it, even when they broke his bones and skin, because Arthur was alive and Albion would flourish.

‘Open.’ He didn’t listen, but the arm closed over his mouth, more darkness that messed with his Magic in a weird way.

He knew he was the child of Magic, but whatever this was doing to him, it as addictive. A power rushing through his veins, that not even the Demons around him could stop.

‘I’m going to kill you.’ Merlin promised, and the Demon laughed. Merlin wasn’t really sure what was so funny, there was very little that he promised that he didn’t fulfil. Even Arthur was alive now, and Merlin had promised the King that he’d be fine.

No, whoever this Demon was, she was making a mistake by thinking he’d be a loyal subject to anybody but Arthur.

He was just biding his time.

**

‘Are you sure?’ Freya questioned, as they stood on the edge of the Lake. Around them, Druids that had gathered to create an energy large enough to rip open the veil between life and death. Morgana nodded firmly, reached for the blade at her side.

‘I’ll find Merlin. And I’ll bring him back.’ Maybe then she would regain trust with those that she was working so hard to apologise to.

‘You won’t have long. But time in Hell works differently.’ Freya handed her the sword, Excalibur, the one that Arthur had grudgingly handed across. According to the Lady of the Lake, it would be able to locate Merlin as long as he still had his Magic. And, considering that was basically a part of him, Morgana had her hopes it would work.

‘Wish me luck.’ Morgana stated, before nodding her head to the Druids.

She’d find Emrys, and then would work to prove all she had done was in the name of Magic.


	3. Escaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana's in Hell

When Merlin could feel his toes again, he decided that Hell wasn’t for him. It wasn’t that he regretted making the Deal, he didn’t. It was just that having his limbs torn apart, watching as the darkest creatures fed on both his Magic and him, he was beginning to see the downside of being trapped. He hated the fire, hated the fact that getting his feelings back also brought with it an aching pain that was caused by his blistering skin.

The wall no longer dripped blood, and Merlin’s body had been going in to some sort of withdrawal. He licked the wall dry, free from the muzzle, but it had been replaced by a contraption that caged his head entirely. Blind, not that there was much to see in Hell.

‘You heard what the boss said, we’re preparing to take the ground.’ Demon number 1 was an idiot, and the replacement for the one Merlin had killed. If the Warlock had the chance, he’d quite happily kill that one as well.

‘Better, now that the only protector is dead.’ That would be him. Merlin had made a deal, endangering the whole of Albion, just to bring Arthur back. The only good thing that came from that was the fact that Arthur couldn’t die, as long as Merlin’s mind didn’t break. Nor could any of the ones he brought back, so his heart was happy that Gwaine was safe.

‘What about the Lake creature?’

‘Useless, without her King.’ Freya. She’d tried to stop him from doing this, had begged and pleaded with him not to be so stupid. Merlin had ignored her, his heart torn from losing everybody that he loved, barely even acknowledging that she had come to him.

‘And what of Lilith?’ That was the Demon that had come to see Merlin. She fancied herself Queen of Hell, according to the rumours, and was willing to help Merlin reach freedom if he supported her.

It was something to do with him being a halfling. Having access to Magic from the Goddess, and the blood that they had been giving him, making him closer to a Demon.

Merlin had been in Hell for approximately eighteen months when the shift happened, when he felt somebody enter the realm of the undead. The Warlock rose his head, even with the blindfold inhibiting his sight, and grinned.

Morgana.

**

The High Priestess stepped into the realm of fire, drew the sword up to the very confused man staring at her. He had eyes as dark as the night, but apart from that, he looked Human.

He was not a human. Morgana was prepared to face the worst, down in the fiery pits of Hell. Whatever religion she supported, whether it be the Old Religion, or the one brought across by the boats, each believed in some form of suffering.

Merlin had chosen this, and brought her back to life. The Witch swung the sword with all the training she remembered from her years growing up with Arthur and Leon, sliced cleanly through the creature. It made an awful sound, before vanishing into a cloud of black smoke.

Sneaking around in this place was easier than she had thought, there were so many corridors and turns to keep her hidden, the sword glowing stronger as she moved through the labyrinth. The heat was almost unbearable, prickled at her skin and made sweat slick down her forehead, she was sure her dress would be plastered to her by the time she escaped this realm.

But this was her destiny, to be brought back by Merlin, to enter the realm of the undead.

She halted quite suddenly, boots skidding in ash as she did so. The sword urged her to continue, glowing brightly as she glanced to it, but the reason she had stopped was stronger.

A woman’s voice, soft and alluring, and Morgana crept closer. Call it a desire to explore the unknown, or maybe it stemmed from the fact that Morgana had been used to following Morgause’s orders.

If she had to describe what she saw, Morgana would call it a throne room. A woman with red eyes stood on the steps, dressed in black trousers that hung tight to her form, hair the same shade as the capes of Camelot.

‘He can’t survive without it, not now.’ Merlin. There could only be one thing that the woman was talking about, Morgana had no doubt about that.

‘Is it even possible? Half Demon, half…’

‘It must be. You’ve seen his eyes, Asmodeus.’ The Demon, Asmodeus, did not look impressed with what his Mistress had said. Clearly there was no loyalty between Demons, which should not surprise her.

Morgana abandoned whatever she had just seen, feet backing away until she hit the opposite wall. It burned slightly, the Witch jumping away, before continuing to follow the sword until she reached a cell. Made of a dark metal she could not identify, carvings onto the outside that she had to presume blocked Merlin’s Magic. There were no Guards in front, presumably they changed every so often, which she concluded from the footprints in the dust. With a quick glance around to check nobody was about, she brought Excalibur down on the lock.

It shattered, the door swinging open to reveal a pit of fire. It burned her skin even from here, she stepped back and wrapped the cloak around her, halting when she caught sight of the figure.

Even with the strange metal around his head, with the fabric covering his eyes, Morgana could recognise Merlin. Thin, clothes torn and charred at the edges, skin blistering into the most awful shade of red. They may have been enemies the last time they properly saw each other, but right now, Morgana’s heart shattered.

‘Merlin.’ She spoke the word, for the first time in a while, without hatred.

‘ _You came for me_.’ He croaked, but it was not in their language. It was in the tongue of the old religion, bounced around inside her head as her Magic responded to the power radiating from the man in front.

Morgana ignored the fire, stepped through to break the chains that kept him bound. When that was done, she reached her hands steadily for the Cage.

She gasped, slender fingers wrapping around hers as they rested on the side of his head. Far too cold, the temperature of death itself.

‘I’m afraid.’ He whispered, but Morgana did not have time to take this slowly. She used what little Magic she could access down here, cracking the cage and removing the blasted contraption, before untying the blindfold.

His eyes were the most horrific thing she’d seen. Black, almost entirely, apart from a ring of golden that swirled deep within it. Not human, not a Warlock, but something very different.

Whatever they had done to Merlin, she could worry about it later. Picking the sword back up, she gripped his hand and turned to the door, only to find the woman standing there.

Morgana gripped the sword, but the Demon merely cocked her head to the side, gaze on Merlin. Then, very slowly, she stepped to the side.

She wasn’t about to ask why a Demon had given her a free pass, dragged Merlin as quickly as his damaged body would carry him back through the maze. The portal had held, shone brightly in the darkest depths of this place, and she took note that the Demons cowered from the light like it burned.

So did Merlin. She heard him hiss, and for a moment, she faltered. But then he was back, gripping her hand and the two of them falling from the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I don't usually do this, but could I ask a favour? To any of my regulars who have read my fic "Show me your Fears", would you mind checking out this work I've found on A03? I'm not trying to start a fight, it just seems quite similar to my plot, which I don't mind, I'd just prefer to know about it!!
> 
> 'My Biggest Fear...' Lunatic_Shipper
> 
> Have a good day my lovelies!! <3


	4. Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Morgana take a swim

Merlin landed in the Lake. He probably should have expected such a thing, managed to get a lungful of Camelot’s air as he tumbled into the waters of Avalon. It stung every inch of his body, burned worse than the fires of Hell, but a part of him was soothed. The Magic, it roared back to life, but there was something deeper than that. Something that, as he opened his eyes under the water, began to take over.

Then he remembered that he had been saved, that Morgana had appeared in Hell for him. Her eyes were the brightest of green, lips had drawn back into a gasp when she saw his face. Evidently, he had changed.

He kicked off the bottom of the Lake, hands wrapping around the dark fabric and tugging Morgana to him. She was heavier than he recalled, from the moment he carried her body to the Lake to burn, and it drew him towards the surface.

His second breath of air was less traumatic, but just as refreshing. He drew Morgana into his arms, feet digging into the shingle as he rose the two of them out. The Witch was unconscious, presumably from the strain of not only walking through Hell, pushing through a portal and hitting the water, but from the Magic it had drawn from her.

The first thing he noticed was that they were not alone. That there was his King, and his friends, but they were being held back by Freya.

‘Merlin…?’ Freya looked terrified, by whatever had happened to his eyes, and the Warlock studied her curiously. No longer did he just see the girl, but he could see the energy around her. A faint glow, that was not quite as powerful as the energy in his blood. He made it out of the Lake, gently lowered the Witch to the ground.

‘Lady Morgana.’ He whispered, brushed aside the dark hair that covered her face. She was pale, still thin, and had evidently not quite been accepted despite her incline to help. He placed a hand to her cheek, concentrated on his Magic.

Instead, something else tried to Heal her. The thing that had come from the feeding, a power that he tried to control as he reached for Morgana.

When her eyes flickered, he relaxed slightly. She turned to cough up water, Merlin patting her back awkwardly while trying not to feel the anger that built when he thought of all they had been through.

‘Emrys.’ She muttered, glancing up to him, before he stood up. He looked to Freya, who was still holding the others back, and Merlin pulled back on not only his Magic, but the new gift that ran in his blood.

He knew it worked, for Freya gave up holding her position, ran across to comfort him.

**

Morgana walked by Merlin’s side, on the way back. Although they had all hugged him, even Arthur, a silence had fallen as they made their way to Camelot. Maybe it was the fact that she walked with him, or his bare feet that moved over the dirt, or the fact his eyes had been dark when he climbed out of the Lake.

They were worried. Even Freya did not know what had become of him, but Morgana could understand. A Demon, that was what Merlin was now. Or, at least, it was part of him.

‘How… how long has it been?’ Merlin choked out, the question surprisingly aimed at her. Morgana watched the others distrusting glances, the hesitancy to allow her anywhere near Emrys. He was the only one that could understand her, perhaps Freya aside.

‘A little over a week, Emrys.’ The Warlock winced, ran a hand through his hair while she observed his features.

‘For you, I presume it has been a lot longer.’ A year, at least, from what she had seen down in Hell.

‘Five-hundred and thirty-nine days.’ More than a year. The King of Camelot stumbled in his step, the Queen had tears in her eyes. But Merlin did nothing more than look to Morgana, and offer out his hand.

‘Thank you, High Priestess, for all that you did for me.’ Merlin waited, fingers offering out a branch of trust, and Morgana thought back to all she had done for Magic. Of fearing, of running, of everything she had to avoid to survive. Then, she reached to accept his hand.

‘And you, my Lord, for bringing me back.’ The King of the Druids, now with a tainted strain in his energy, and hopefully her new friend. No longer were they pretending about who they were, it was a new start.

Hope.

**

Merlin bathed, ignored Gaius as the Physician stared at his back. He could tell the skin was split, used his Magic to yet again raise the cup of water, washing it over his skin. It stained the bath a mixture of bloodred and dirty brown, but the Warlock didn’t bother to empty it. When he was done with his bathing, he rose out of the water and used a spell to dry.

‘How is Magic viewed?’ He finally dared to ask, staring at his hands rather than at his Uncle. Merlin wasn’t sure how long he could survive on this earth without the blood they had been using to keep him alive, could he be weaned off it? Was it possible to go back to what he was?

And how did he tell Arthur that the Demons were coming to Albion? They needed weapons, protection, Magic-users that could defeat such a darkness. Yet all they had was Excalibur, Merlin and Morgana. Freya, perhaps, if she joined their team.

‘The Queen has repealed the ban, and the King agrees. Whatever you did, whatever you said to him…’ He hated those words, it implied Arthur only legalised Magic for him. That he only viewed it acceptable, because of Merlin.

‘Arthur knew in his heart what was right.’ He could not believe that it had been done for him, not when he had failed Destiny once already.

‘My boy, what happened to you?’ Gaius questioned, taking a step forward and reaching for Merlin’s bare shoulder. The moment his skin touched, he recoiled back.

‘You’re ice cold, Merlin.’ Funny, he thought Hell had been rather hot.

‘I just need to rest.’ He lied, Gaius sighing but accepting his answer.

The Warlock needed to figure out what he was, and how to beat Destiny before it could try and take any more of those that he loved.

**

Morgana woke, as usual, to nightmares. She kicked off the sheets, grabbed the candle by her bedside and lit it with nothing more than a glance, headed to the door in just her nightgown. The corridors were lit by torches, but the Guards did not stop her as she moved through the Castle, following the calling of her Magic.

When she reached the ramparts, she stepped out into the night and abandoned the candle. The sky was starry, not a cloud in sight, but Morgana was more focused on the Warlock.

‘We aren’t prepared enough to face Demons.’ Merlin stated, turning to face her. His eyes were still blue, as they had been before his time in Hell, and Morgana wondered if he could control it.

‘Then we will prepare.’ He cocked his head, looking a lot older than his actual age. In this life, there was only a year between them, both born in the spring when the snow melted away and life bloomed back to Albion. Now, with the time Merlin had spent in Hell, he was her age.

He didn’t look it.

‘How?’ Emrys, supposed to be the most powerful person to live, and yet he had kept her alive until after the Battle. Affection, fear, or something else entirely?

‘By discovering the new part of you. And protecting the King.’


	5. Mind Control?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's flexing

He didn’t utter a single word. The objects around him moved, knives hovering and pointing outwards around him, the Warlock’s eyes the darkest of black. The Witch watched as he controlled it with nothing more than his mind, before turning to look at her.

‘Simple.’ She could tell.

‘What else do you think you can do?’ Merlin called it intuition, the new gifts that they were practicing with. Over at the other end of the training grounds, Arthur and his Knights were training, or using it as an excuse to stare at Merlin. For the first time, the Warlock didn’t have to hide his gifts, and she could tell he was enjoying it.

‘Can I… I want to try something.’ His hands had crept out in her direction, and Morgana shrugged. After everything, wasn’t it amusing to find that Merlin was the one trying to be her friend? He had been the one to knock on her door in the morning, to bring her breakfast (because George had adamantly stated that he was the King’s manservant now), and to help her dress. Two people, brought back but partially unwanted.

‘Go ahead.’ She offered, and then those dark eyes were focused on her.

There was a pressure inside her head, a slight ache as memories came flooding forward. The poison, her time in captivity, Aithusa. Morgause, the last sacrifice, the battle and Agravaine. Then her hand was moving, tilting towards the sun, but it was not her moving it.

The only thing she could control were her eyes, staring at the Demon that was using her own body against her.

He dropped the control within seconds, stepping away and looking horrified.

‘Morgana, I’m so sorry!’ She was more fascinated, batted away his apology and gestured for him to do it again. When he hesitated, she verbally asked, and the power was back.

If Merlin could control somebody with no more than his mind, what else was it possible to do?

When he let go, this time he wobbled. Stumbling back, raising a hand to his nose that was dripping black blood. She moved to his side, caught the Warlock before he could fall.

‘Easy.’ She muttered, his forehead coming to rest against hers. Her Magic felt rather happy at that fact, bubbled up to the surface to try and heal him, but she held it back. They may be the outsiders, but she would not overstep the boundaries he was setting.

‘I’m starving.’ She didn’t need to ask to know that it wasn’t human food he wanted, she had seen the stain of blood slicking his wall, the same thing that now bled from his nose.

‘We’ll find you something from the kitchens.’ Morgana wondered if there was a way of finding him something to sustain his new powers, without having to go to Hell to find it.

She was surprised to find Gwaine jogging across in their direction, the King shouting behind him.

‘Is he…’

‘Fine, just drained.’ Gwaine didn’t hesitate, arms reaching out for Merlin, the Warlock slumping into him. Intimate, the way the Knight cradled him like he was afraid of hurting Merlin.

‘He could do with some food and rest.’ Morgana suggested, turning away from the man she tortured and deciding it was time to go to the Lake.

**

‘What happened to you?’ Gwaine murmured, while feeding Merlin another bite of the finest meat he’d ever tasted. Boar, according to the chef, and Merlin licked Gwaine’s fingers clean before the Knight picked up another bite.

‘It was Hell. Take a good guess.’ He joked, then winced when he saw Gwaine’s horrified expression. Things had changed between them, Gwaine had died, and then Merlin had gone to Hell, and now they were both back.

‘Why did you do it?’ The Knight asked, another piece hovering in front of Merlin’s mouth. They were in Gwaine’s room, a place that Merlin had been sneaking into for ages before the Battle. It had been a thing, the two of them, even if they hadn't told the others.

‘I lost Arthur. And then I came back to Camelot, and Percival told me… Gwaine, I couldn’t lose you too.’ Merlin was disappointed to find himself crying again, tears that welled up in his eyes as he looked up at the Knight. Gwaine shushed him, tucked arms around him and pulled Merlin closer, until the Warlock could rest his head against Gwaine’s chest. His heartbeat, thudding loudly under Merlin’s ear, was enough to stop his panic.

‘And the black eyes?’

‘There’s something coming. To Camelot, I mean. Demons.’ The hand in his hair stopped moving, the Knight tensing up.

‘Is that what you are?’ Would it change what they were? Merlin was tempted to admit the truth to the Knight, that he’d been fed on nothing but blood for eighteen months, that he’d needed no other sustenance. That he’d relied on the power it brought, not the Magic he was born with.

‘I’m the child of Magic itself. And now… I might have something else in me.’ He waited for the rejection, for the Knight to turn and run, but Gwaine did none of those things. He pressed a kiss to Merlin’s forehead, and the Warlock snuggled closer.

‘Then we’ll figure it out.’

‘Thank you. For not giving up on me.’ Merlin amended, the Knight scoffing.

‘Who else would put up with me?’ He joked, let his hand move to Merlin’s so they could entwine their fingers.

‘You should know, Arthur was moody this morning. Something to do with George waking him up, not you.’ Was it really that simple? To go back to Arthur’s side, like nothing had changed? Like he hadn't lied to Arthur for so long, and then in the King’s last moments, had been told to hold him?

‘I…’

‘You deserve to be happy, Merls.’ Gwaine’s words echoed in his mind, stayed long into the two of them cuddling.

He had suffered through Hell, to be brought back to this. So why did it feel so… wrong?

**

‘I didn’t expect to see you so soon.’ The Lady of the Lake stated, and Morgana awkwardly clutched at her skirts, wondering if she should have come here.

‘Forgive me, I can go if you…’

‘No! No, there’s no need. I enjoy your company, my Lady.’ Freya offered a small smile, patting the sand where she was seated. Morgana moved to the shore of the Lake, kicking off her boots and padding barefoot across the wet ground, taking a seat.

‘How are you settling back in?’ Freya inquired, while Morgana snorted a laugh.

‘Being unwanted by anyone but Merlin? They look at me with such hatred. And they have every right.’ She had thought saving Merlin would make her worthy, but it had done nothing to stop their glares. Strangely, it was Freya who comforted her, taking her hand and squeezing gently.

‘You wanted freedom, to be who you wanted to be. To express your gift, after living in fear. I understand.’ The first person to ever say those words, to realise what she had done and why, and Morgana gave a watery smile in return.

‘Thank you, Freya.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *squints at writing*  
> Am I.... shipping Freya with Morgana??  
> *Squints harder*  
> Shit.


	6. Accidental Rant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin explains to Arthur why he cares for Morgana, and the power duo spar together

‘We need more weapons.’ Merlin explained, hand reaching for Excalibur. The sword came to his grasp, lighting up along the blade as he admired her. Then he caught Arthur staring, so he quickly returned her to the table, looking to the Knights’ swords.

‘Dragon’s breath will mean they can kill anything enchanted or demonic.’ The King looked pleased with that, before a frown crossed his face.

‘Where will we find…’ He halted, looking across to his sister, who was standing behind Merlin.

‘I have not seen Aithusa since the Battle, Sire.’ She remarked calmly, like she wasn’t bothered by the fact that Arthur was treating her like a stranger. Merlin would remedy that, after he was sure that they were all willing to work together to fight the oncoming demons.

‘I’ll call for him.’ Merlin stated, glancing back to Morgana. Her smile picked up, she was fond of his hatchling.

‘Are we sure that’s wise?’ Arthur inputted, hand flexing to where his sword would usually sit.

‘He’s just a hatchling!’ Morgana’s anger shocked the group of people around the table. According to Gaius, Morgana hadn't shown any sign of her former anger or attitude since being resurrected. It was about time she saw her worth, Merlin thought, not bothering to input into the conversation.

‘Who killed men of Camelot at the Battle.’ Arthur wasn’t angry. Merlin had known the King for long enough to understand that his statement was said to invoke anger, to get a response. But Morgana also knew Arthur, simply shrugged her shoulders.

‘Under my orders. He thought he was doing the right thing.’ Merlin realised she was trying to burden the guilt alone, shook his head firmly.

‘That was my fault. He was my Hatchling, I should have raised him better.’ Morgana’s eyes widened in shock, but Merlin was not willing to break this moment. He placed a hand over hers, smiled warmly.

‘I owe you my life, Morgana. We fight for the same side.’ Her lips quirked up in the corners, just a flicker of her old self, before she inclined his head.

‘Apparently so, Emrys.’

**

‘I did not know you and Morgana were friends.’ Merlin stumbled from where he’d been carrying the target. He turned to stare at Arthur, who was trying to look nonchalant as he put his gloves on. Behind him, the Knights of the Round Table, whom Merlin considered family. Each one of them looked at him with a different expression, some form of protection and care that he didn’t understand.

‘She went to Hell for me.’ He pointed out, felt the ache in the back of his mind at the mention of the dark realm. He shoved it away, finished moving the target and tried to settle for cheery.

‘She killed my Knights. Tortured Guinevere.’ Back to that tone, goading Merlin into a fight that he walked into willingly.

‘Morgana was hurt. Scared.’ Because of him. He’d let her fall, knowing what would happen to her if she did.

‘And that excuses it?’ Last night, tucked back against Gwaine, Merlin had apologised for what she had done to him. The Knight looked so confused, like he couldn’t understand the burden Merlin had been carrying, all the guilt that he drowned in. Arthur was staring right at him, and Merlin felt himself snap.

‘You don’t know how she felt. To live in the same Castle as Uther, to fear the Pyre every day she lived. To wake up, knowing that if she let anybody get close to her, she’d be burned. She’d lose everything she loved, everyone she held dear, just because she was born with a gift that she couldn’t choose.’ He spat the words out, heart pounding away at just how true the words are.

‘I guess that’s how she felt, anyway.’ Merlin quickly amended, turning his back on the King and getting his emotions back in check.

A hand landed on his shoulder, Merlin spinning to find Arthur’s knowing gaze on him.

‘You’re not alone anymore, Merlin. Neither of you are.’

He thought to Hell, to the darkness and the fire and the heat that burned his skin away. Eighteen months, with nobody by his side, and now he had someone that was trying to care for him.

Strange, he felt rather lonely still.

**

Morgana swore, let her knees buckle as the sword sliced through the air above her. She held a hand out to brace herself, swung back up using her sword as leverage, then knocked Merlin back with her Magic. Fire was her best bet, it was the only element that she could control better than he could, sending it hurling in his direction as she lunged.

His sword hit hers, the sound of the metal striking filling the training grounds, before she tried to twist the blade down. Not quick enough, Merlin was feinting left, going for the side of her that she left exposed. Her Magic took longer to act than his did, words taking effect as she struck down again.

This time, the force was enough to disarm the Warlock, the blade flying back and hitting the ground. She went to swing again, to force him to surrender, but Merlin was ducking under the blade and going for her wrist. A hand wrapped around it, before a shoulder dug into her and she went flying over his shoulder.

Dazed, she vaguely noted that she’d released her hold of the sword, stuck a leg out to trip the Warlock up. Morgana was glad she’d asked to borrow a pair of Merlin’s trousers for this fight, considering her old wardrobe had been completely burned, and she had only what Guinevere had gifted her.

He’d “snazzed” (his word, not hers) them up a bit, made them fit her form nicely. A tunic was borrowed, a neckerchief that he used to braid her hair and tie it back with. Boots, those were his as well, his only other pair.

Merlin grunted as he went down, Morgana rolling quickly and going for his neck. He was quicker, wriggled until he could get a leg out to flip them over, a hand moving to her throat and the other stealing the knife that she’d sneaked into her boot and pressing it to her inner thigh, against the point where the blood would flow.

‘I yield.’ She admitted, after several moments of trying to escape his hold. Merlin grinned, stood up and dusted himself down, before offering out his hand.

She got pulled up easily, the dagger returned to her boot and Merlin moved to collect their swords.

‘I figured we’d go to the Lake tonight, take the weapons with us to enchant.’ He chatted away merrily, Morgana looking over her shoulder to where the younger Knights had gathered to watch the two of them spar. No doubt word would reach the King, she was surprised he wasn’t here already.

‘Sounds good. Are all of us going?’

‘No need. We can manage.’ It meant she could spend some time with Freya, then. Merlin put the swords back, moving across to her side with a smile that she would call similar to back in the early days, before her Magic and his betrayal of her trust.

‘Should I go to the stables to collect a horse?’ She no longer had privileges to command the Guards, had to do everything herself. Not that she minded, she would rather not go to the Guards for assistance.

‘I can do it. Arthur asked me to muck them out, anyway.’ He grumbled, rolling his eyes but making his way toward the stables.

For some reason, the thought of returning to the Castle by herself, sitting alone in a room where she was not welcome, made Morgana want to cry.

‘I’ll come and help.’ She stated, his eyebrow shooting up in a typical Gaius move. Then he smirked, eyes alight with mischief.

‘Do you even know which end of the shovel to use?’

After she’d finished glaring at him, Morgana could not help but wonder if things would have been different, if they’d trusted each other from the start.


	7. Half Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's spotted the link between Freya and Morgana

Much to Merlin’s amusement, Morgana’s attention was entirely on Freya. He turned to Aithusa once more, holding Percival’s sword, and smiled when his hatchling enthusiastically breathed fire over the blade. It took a couple of moments for the Dragon to recover, after each sword was burned, and then placed into the Lake of Avalon.

Merlin continued his job of readying the weapons, occasionally glancing across to Morgana. She looked happier, had her legs kicked out and her trousers rolled up to the knee, so she could sit in the water. Freya was by her side, the two of them talking about… well, Merlin wasn’t entirely sure, but he found it amusing regardless.

The two of them were bonding, sharing a love for Magic and a streak of rebellion that he could tell was going to cause mischief.

He was about to go across to them, to question whether they were going to assist in the weapons or if they were just going to laze about, when the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

Merlin looked out to the forest, trying to work out what had alerted him. He abandoned Lancelot’s sword, instead opting for wandering off into the trees, following where his gut led him.

It wasn’t a long walk, it didn’t take him long to find what had prickled his senses.

A perfect circle, with dead birds all facing inwards. He regarded them, moved around the edge and realised it hadn't been his Magic that had called to him.

‘Are you him? The halfling?’ Strangely, he did not panic at the voice. Merlin rose his head, found a set of jet black eyes looking at him. A Demon, but how had he escaped Hell? Was it this circle? The Demon took a step forward, wearing a peasant’s garb and with a wound at his side that Merlin concluded would have been fatal.

‘How did you get here?’ Merlin questioned, taking a step towards the creature. The Demon smirked, following Merlin’s gaze to the wound. He rose the shirt, enough to see that the hole had healed. So, these creatures could heal wounds like he could.

‘Lilith sent me. To warn you, that somebody’s coming for your King.’ Another step, before Merlin lunged. The Demon didn’t try to fight, instead rose a hand invitingly, and the Warlock halted.

‘It’s alright. You’ll need the strength.’ Black blood, not the same substance that the human had bled out. That meant that this Demon was only holding this body, didn’t actually belong to it.

It didn’t stop Merlin from biting down into the skin, the hunger that he couldn’t quite satisfy crying out in satisfaction as he drank his fill.

**

Morgana rose her head from where it had been resting on Freya’s shoulder, looking across to where Aithusa had made a sound. A cry, a warning, and she realised that Merlin was no longer burning the swords for the Knights. She hurried across, collecting them from the Lake and strapping them back to the horse, while Freya tried to soothe the hatchling.

Merlin appeared, stumbling from the forest. It took her a moment to realise that it was blood that drenched his shirt, that stained his lips. The same colour as the dark in his eyes, that had completely swallowed up any other colour.

‘Someone’s coming for Arthur.’ Merlin croaked, but Morgana was more concerned by the fact that he was changing. Back to whatever he’d been when Morgana found him. She moved to his side on instinct, studying the dark eyes.

‘Then we need to hurry to Camelot.’ Her spell worked quickly, cleaned the shirt that he was wearing and then wiped his lips with her thumb, removing any trace of the sin he’d just committed.

Merlin reached the horse first, swung up onto the mare and then reached for her. She settled behind him, looking over her shoulder to find Freya and Aithusa standing by the Lake.

She just hoped that Merlin knew what he was doing.

**

Arthur looked from the strange creature, to his Knights, and then back again. Gwen was the only one with a sword at hand, but Merlin had told them that the creatures could not be attacked with normal blades. Still, she looked quite threatening, wielding the blade with what he knew would be a deadly-accuracy.

‘You’re the Once and Future King?’ The creature asked, dark eyes looking amused as he took a step closer. Arthur reached for the closest thing, which happened to be a jug of wine, while his Knights closed in around the Demon.

‘You don’t belong in these lands, creature.’ He snarled, and the man chuckled. He looked to Gwen, then back to Arthur, looking far too pleased with himself.

‘Where’s your halfling now?’ Arthur didn’t know what he meant about a halfling, not until the door opened and Morgana came skidding in.

Her cheeks were flushed, she was wearing trousers that were rolled up to her knees, and she was wielding Excalibur. The same sword that he had let go to the Dragon, to be washed in the Lake water.

‘Now this is a challenge!’ The creature cooed, turning to Morgana with a grin. His hand stretched out, like he was attempting some sort of spell, but when nothing happened, he looked confused.

‘You can’t control my mind, Demon. Not when the Halfling beats your power any day.’ Then Merlin appeared, hair sticking up in all directions but with eyes the same colour as the creature.

The Demon paused, and then grinned.

A moment later, the space where he stood was empty. Morgana lowered the blade, looked back to Merlin, who blinked. It took a moment for his eyes to return to blue, but when they did, he smiled.

Not at him. Or the Knights. Or even Gwen. His smile was solely for Morgana, a grin that almost reached his ridiculous ears.

‘Nice job threatening a demon.’ He remarked, and Arthur watched as his sister laughed.

For a moment, she was the old Morgana. The one that he remembered growing up with, and Arthur’s heart ached.

‘Can someone please explain what just happened?’ Guinevere stated, sword still in hand, and it broke the two sorcerers out of their daze.

‘Of course, my lady.’ They answered in synchrony, both flashing smiles that made Arthur’s head hurt.

**

‘And your eyes?’ Gwen finally asked, looking at Merlin. Morgana tensed up, reaching instinctively to protect, although she wasn’t sure why. The Warlock gave a half-smile to the Queen, shrugged his shoulders.

‘They turned me into… half of whatever they are.’ The truth was now out in the open, Morgana daring anybody to tell Merlin he wasn’t welcome anymore. She’d seen the cell, seen the fire and the dried blood on the wall. She’d seen Merlin stumble from the forest like a lost lamb, unsure of what he’d just done.

‘Half?’ Arthur managed to speak, even if he looked completely dazed.

‘The other half belongs to Magic.’ Merlin explained calmly, his gaze flicking to Gaius, who had joined them for this conversation. The Physician looked tired, probably of all the chaos that came with Camelot.

‘So you’re a Demon.’ Arthur concluded, which had Gwaine tensing up and reaching for his sword. At least Morgana could trust one of them to keep Merlin safe.

‘Partly.’ Merlin agreed, rubbing his hands together awkwardly like it would save him from this conversation.

‘How?’ Gwen asked kindly, reaching for his hand. He looked surprised, almost flinched at the touch.

‘Blood. Demon’s blood.’ She remembered his black lips, the smear of blood around his pale skin.

She’d save Merlin, and then she’d figure out her place in Camelot.


End file.
